Sober
by ii Digestive Reader ii
Summary: A oneshot based on the song "Sober" that describes the relationship between a certain Duchess and a Jedi Master. Enjoy, my dears.


Sober

* * *

Warning: Dubious consent on Satine's part at times. You've been warned.

* * *

_We fall for each other at the wrong time_

_Only for a moment, but I don't mind_

_Guess I don't know where to draw the line, the line, the line_

_And we'll play the same game every night_

Satine combed her hair through when she stepped from the shower. It'd been days since they'd been able to wash, and even longer since they'd risked a town and been in an inn for the night.

She hummed while she dried off and tossed the towel aside, enjoying the soft sounds filtering from outside. This moon was small, but far outside the reach of the Insurgents. It had been decided they could stay for three or four days, just enough time to recover and gather supplies.

"Gross," she muttered when a finger caught on a gnarl. Her wavy hair had grown incredibly long, as had her bangs. The brown hairdye she had used religiously as a teenager had finally washed out weeks ago, revealing the infamous Kryze blonde she'd been cursed with.

Scouring the bathroom cupboard, Satine grinned upon finding scissors and various odds-ends that she'd sorely missed on the run.

She knew a majority of her people, no matter the political affiliation, were far off than her. Sure, she'd gone hungry, but they didn't have two Jedi protecting them.

Taking a bit of hair between her hair, Satine focused on trimming her hair and not -

A knock sounded at the door before it opened

"Satine - oh _shit."_

Satine grimaced, watching in the mirror while he glanced at the ceiling to avoid looking at her naked body. It wasn't like they _hadn't _seen each other naked - when you were on the run, starving, and in tight quarters - privacy became minimal.

But...they _had _tumbled in lakes or beneath cloaks when Qui-Gon was gone. Though...was something _far_ more intimate about their current setting.

"Obi-Wan." Satine turned sideways, forcing him to look at her. "Can you cut the back of my hair? I'd like it a little less scraggly."

Obi-Wan swallowed, then nodded and let the door shut. He came forward, hands shaking a little when she handed over the scissors.

* * *

_Up in the clouds_

_Yeah, you know how to make me want you_

_When we come down_

_Oh I know, yeah I know, it's over_

_"Obi-Wan?" _

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then closed it and rubbed at his neck. "I...just wanted to hear your voice."

The hologram of Satine squinted at him, rubbing at her while she tried to become more coherent. _"You couldn't have done it two months earlier and not in the middle of the kriffen night?"_

He tugged at his padawan braid. "I... thought you wouldn't want to look at me. Talk to me."

Satine sighed, her bedsheets crinkling softly while she moved into a sitting position. _"Obi...why now?"_

Swallowing hard, Obi-Wan studied the empty beer bottle just beyond the projector capabilities. It was his...fifth? Sixth? He shook his head, turning back to the Holo of the woman he didn't leave the Order for.

"I have leave soon...the Council wanted me to take it before the situation on Naboo required intervention."

* * *

_You don't know how to love me when you're sober_

_When the bottle's done you pull me closer_

_And you're saying all the things that you're supposed to_

_But you don't know how to love me when you're sober_

"How many drinks makes someone an alcoholic?"

Obi-Wan snorted while he leaned back against her couch, eyeing her over his fourth wine glass. Mandalorian alcohol was strong - but his tolerance was far higher than most. The Force helped too. "Everyone gets drunk sometimes."

Satine laughed, about to pour herself another glass before stopping and taking a swig straight from the bottle. "How many glasses per week then?"

"I'm not an alcoholic," he muttered.

"Mmm." Satine giggled while he wrapped an arm around her and pressed a fierce kiss to her white hair. She was aware of him taking the wine bottle, taking a long swig and resting his chin on her head.

It'd been months since they'd seen each other. Neither had been able to leave to each other's respective planets...but finally, Satine had been on Coruscant and had contacted him.

Was it lust or genuine love that had caused her to keep comming him, messaging him in the middle of the night just for a message that made her warm? To keep winding up in his bed, knowing that asking him to be faithful was next to impossible? To keep having sex in her Coruscanti apartment, in her office, anywhere, a fucking speeder in an alley?

She didn't know.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask about Anakin, the classes he taught, the adventures he'd been on -

But he was kissing her throat, murmuring his love for her, pulling her into his lap.

_Fuck me, _was Satine's only thought while she shed the cardigan she'd worn. There was only a slip dress under it - she'd anticipated the events of the night.

* * *

_Why is it so different when we wake up?_

_Same lips, same kiss, but not the same touch_

_Don't you know that you do it just enough, but not enough_

_But I know what's next, and I want so much_

_Up in the clouds_

_Yeah, you know how to make me want you_

_When we come down_

_Oh I know, yeah I know, it's over_

Satine stared at the ceiling of her apartment when she woke, lips pressing together. She could feel tears gathering.

_Again…again._

"You'd think I'd learn," she whispered to herself. Sighing, she made to move from bed, to ready herself before dealing with impossible Senators.

A rough hand slid over her stomach, so gentle and firm. "You should stay in bed."

Satine rolled her eyes, falling back on the pillows and rolling into her back. "I have a job you know."

"Mm hmm." Obi-Wan leaned over, kissing her softly.

She swallowed, feeling his fingers carefully trace everything - jaw, breasts, stomach, thighs… It wasn't the same roughness of last night, where she was unable to breathe or form a coherent thought but -

It didn't take long for her resolve to break - it never did. "Damn you," she muttered, twining her fingers in his long hair - damn, she hated that hair - and kissed him harshly.

* * *

_You don't know how to love me when you're sober_

_When the bottle's done you pull me closer_

_And you're saying all the things that you're supposed to_

_But you don't know how to love me when you're sober_

It wasn't romantic. It wasn't pretty. It was just the two of them, exhausted from Concordia and stumbling into the palace far past midnight.

If anybody glanced and realized that _Obi-Wan Kenobi _was at their Duchess' heels, wearily walking the many stairs and murmuring to her - well, they didn't say anything.

Satine was half-tempted to push him to sleep, to ignore his desire to make sure she was okay - but she was too exhausted to do anything but let him inside her chambers.

How long had it been since he's been in her chambers?

Since before the war, probably.

She blearily went to the wine cabinet, taking out a bottle of tequila and shot glasses.

"Ben."

Obi-Wan ignored her, stalking through the chambers, checking windows and behind curtains and in her bedroom and bathroom.

Satine raised her eyebrows when came back to her. "Satisfied?"

He took the shot glass, downing it swiftly and putting it on the cupboard. With a grimace he leaned against the cupboard, eyes screwed shut.

"Obi?"

"You could have been killed."

"You could have been killed," she pointed out while putting an arm around his shoulders. Withholding a sigh at his still tense muscles, she pressed her lips to the shell of his ears. "Thank you, Ben."

Obi-Wan glanced at her, his eyes haunted.

She wasn't surprised when she found herself against the wall, legs wrapping around his waist, trying to find her breath while giving into his bruising kiss. Say what she would about the Jedi - she had to give them props for the strength and stamina and body it gave their members.

How many others were able to fuck her against a wall and not drop her?

* * *

_I know I should leave, I know I should, should, should_

_But your love's too good, your love's too good, good, good_

_I know I should leave, I know I should, should, should_

_But your love's too good, your love's too good, good, good_

_Yeah!_

"I apologize, you were saying?"

"Oh no worries, Master Jedi, I was simply saying -"

Satine rolled her eyes while the Senator chatted - flirted with really - the ginger-haired Jedi. She didn't want to be here, listening to idiots who were profiting off the war and had no interest in ending it.

_They weren't affected, so why bother hmm? _Satine took another sip of her wine, glancing around the banquet. Out of all the Republican planets, she probably hated Naboo the most. It wasn't like Padmé _wasn't _a good friend or that it wasn't a beautiful planet, or that it provided her system with _so much _trade -

But this was where Obi-Wan lost Qui-Gon, where Obi-Wan gained the young man currently flirting with Senator Amidala, where she'd lost her chance to ask Obi-Wan to stay with her.

The planet made her skin crawl too - people so _nice _made her uneasy. Their last civil war had only been eleven years ago, but before that? Their history and wars were waged with poison and deceit and adultery.

She let her gaze fall to an empty balcony far, far away from everyone, on the other side of the room and slightly hidden away.

She glanced back at the Senator, then stood. "Master Kenobi - I _do _need to discuss the new training program between Jedi padawans and the Royal Academy with you - care for a walk?"

Obi-Wan blinked, then smiled graciously. He nodded, bowing to the Senator. "Of course Duchess."

"Do you really need to discuss - " He asked once they were past the dancefloor.

"No," Satine murmured through gritted teeth. She was well aware of Skywalker giving them a curious look, and kept weaving through the crowd towards the balcony.

"Wait - " He touched her wrist, head dipping while he stepped in time with her quick pace. His fingers were gloveless, though he still wore that dratted armor. "Are you _jealous?"_

"Maybe if you focused on me instead of your wine you would have noticed that, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

* * *

_You don't know how to love me when you're sober_

_When the bottle's done you pull me closer_

_And you're saying all the things that you're supposed to_

_But you don't know how to love me when you're sober_

Satine sighed, pushing the covers back and pulling a robe around her upon standing. The floor was cold, but she barely noticed, striding into the living chamber. She studied the scene before her and sighed.

"Obi - come to bed."

The man that she had thought dead for weeks stared at her, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and the bottle of whiskey on the floor. "What?"

She looked at the stubble on his chin, the short cropped hair on his head.

_Faking his death for a madman._

"I'm in love with an idiot," she muttered, turning back into her bedchamber.

* * *

_You've got a hold on me_

_You're like a wasted dream_

_I gave you everything_

_But you don't know how to love me when you're sober_

* * *

Song: "Sober" by Selena Gomez

* * *

_Author's note: I've wanted to write this series for awhile, and finally I am! (Because some kind people pulled through and gave five comments on my last chapter of "Kadavo to Naboo" - the sequel to "Secrets of the Negotiator") _

_Enjoy this somewhat...not so great Obitine musings. It was so much doing this chapter. I have a list of songs I want to do - but if you think a certain song would fit, drop it in the comments dearies._

_Ta ;)_

_ii Digestive Reader ii_


End file.
